


Shook Me All Night Long

by MistressPandora



Series: The Metallicar Soundtrack [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Light BDSM, Smut, Succubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: Sometime after moving into the bunker, Sam takes a night out for a drink where he meets a woman who is not exactly on the human-side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by AC/DC's ["You Shook Me All Night Long"](https://youtu.be/xuoXkMZvD5Q)
> 
> WARNING: Explicit depictions of sex and themes of non-consent in the context of a succubus. If you are triggered by this or need to talk to someone about your own experiences, I encourage you to reach out to an organization like [RAINN](http://www.rainn.org).

“Where are you going?” Dean asked his brother, who had just strolled into the library wearing a solid green button-up shirt and dark jeans.

“Into town for a drink. I’m getting a little restless,” Sam answered, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair.

Dean leaned back in his chair and leered up at him. “Well, well, baby brother--”

“Save it, Dean,” Sam bit out. “Keys?” He caught the impala keys easily when Dean tossed them at him. “Thanks.” Sam shrugged into his coat and headed for the stairs. “Don’t wait up.”

Dean’s chuckle followed Sam to the door. “Whatever you say, Sammy!”

 

***

 

The bar in Lebanon, Kansas, that Sam chose was not exactly a skeezy hole-in-the-wall but it was far from a white collar martini bar, which Sam didn’t even think Lebanon _had_ . It was a dive with chintzy local memorabilia covering the walls and a couple televisions mounted in corners. Various sports were on each but the volume was low. Some local band was set up on a dias that looked suspiciously like a few sheets of plywood tossed over a handful of wooden pallets. The band was playing classic rock covers. _Well_ , Sam thought, _“playing” might be a little too generous for the sins they were committing_.

“My God, they are awful,” came a lilting voice from Sam’s right.

Turning from his spot against the bar, he chuckled. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he replied.

The woman next to him had raven hair and sharp eyes that shone gold in the unpredictable lighting of the bar. She wore a cherry red dress that somehow managed to simultaneously leave plenty and nothing to the imagination. It hugged her shapely hips and breasts, the hem just above her knees but modest, the neckline the very picture of “plunging.” Patent black heels of a sensible height brought the top of her head to about Sam’s shoulders. Her arms were bare, elbows propped on the bar like Sam’s. Her pale pink lips parted in a smile that revealed perfectly white teeth.

She held out her hand. “Anastasia,” she said, by way of introduction. “You can call me Ana, because it’s kind of a mouthful.”

Sam squeezed her hand gently. “I’m Sam,” he answered. “Which is not a mouthful at all.” He chuckled a little, feeling somewhat awkward.

Ana looked him up and down and Sam got the distinct impression that she was undressing him in her mind. “We’ll see about that,” she purred. After a few heartbeats, she leaned over to speak quietly in Sam’s ear. “I _really_ don’t want to sit through them butchering AC/DC again. My place?”

Sam downed his beer, handed the bartender a couple of bills to pay off his tab, and followed Anastasia out of the bar.

 

***

 

Ana caught him off guard, Sam reasoned, which was how she was able to shove him against the door and claim his mouth in a crushing kiss. Her breasts were pressed against him and her fingers ghosted over his jeans and quickly growing erection. Ana slid both her hands under his shirt, around his waist, and down the back of his pants, sharp nails digging into the flesh of his ass so hard he gasped to keep from yelping.

She let out a pleased sound. “Mmm, very nice.”

Sam pushed Ana back, wincing in earnest when her nails scraped his skin. “Bedroom?” he asked in a breathless growl.

Ana grinned up at Sam and swatted him on the ass. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” She fisted the front of his waistband and tugged him after her. A small table lamp illuminated the modest living room in a dim warmth. Sam didn’t take in any details, so focused he was on Ana’s swaying hips and her fingers mere inches away from his cock.

A large bed sat dead center in the bedroom, clearly the focal point. Ana pushed Sam onto the mattress and climbed over him before he even stopped bouncing. She straddled his hips and ripped his shirt open, buttons flying in all directions. The rain of buttons continued as she leaned down and took one of his nipples between her teeth. Just when it was flirting with the threshold between pleasure and pain Ana withdrew her teeth and licked his nipple hard with the flat of her tongue. She made her way up Sam's chest and throat with shallow nibbles and claimed his mouth with a searing kiss, her tongue leading the way. When she pulled away, Sam was gasping for breath.

“Help me with my zipper,” she ordered, voice low and about as wrecked as Sam felt.

He tangled the fingers of one hand in Ana's dark locks and pulled her down for another kiss, the other hand tracing her spine to find the top of her zipper and pulling it down. Sam's fingertips glided along the smooth skin of her back and he was suddenly overcome with the unbridled need to feel and see more of it. Yanking the dress down over her shoulders, Sam rolled his hips and reclaimed the power, flipping her onto her back and straddling her. He pulled her dress the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. Ana arched her back, showing off ample breasts enveloped in black lace, matching panties barely keeping her secrets. Sam drank in the sight of her, laid out with pupils blown and chest heaving with lust. His head swam and reason left him, taking with it concerns about communication and gentleness. In one moment, he's peeled off her bra; the next Anastasia was naked and on top of him, whipping off his belt.

When Ana bound his wrists with his own belt to the headboard, Sam couldn't help feeling he was forgetting something. But then his jeans came off and those pink lips closed around his hard cock and such hot pleasure shot through him that he forgot to care that there was something he should tell her or a question he should have asked. “Oh God. Feels so fucking good,” he gasped, hips thrusting up into the wet heat of her mouth. She licked and sucked and swallowed around Sam's cock like she'd devour it. His balls tightened and he knew he was close but he fought it, desperate for the insane pleasure to last. Ana's nails raked his chest and squeezed his ass, encouraging him to let go. He was lost in a sea of sensation and that skillful tongue licking circles up and down the underside of his shaft.

Without warning Sam felt a wet finger press inside him, gentle but insistent. Somewhere in the back of his blissed-out brain it might have occurred to him that a woman had never done that to him before. But then she was pressing in with a second finger and massaging his prostate and he cried out in ecstasy. He managed to register that Anastasia was swallowing the cum that poured out of him and then the room went black.

 

***

 

Sam didn’t know how long he’d been out and the bedroom didn’t have a window or a clock. His head pounded and spun like some horrific hangover. His hands were still bound but he was laying down at a more comfortable angle, though his shoulders ached. The nagging feeling that he was forgetting something, that something was wrong, surfaced briefly but was quickly drowned by an incredible exhaustion. _Holy hell_ was he tired, more so than a man as fit as he should feel after one spectacular blowjob, and yet he was too worn out to pull the thread on that thought and examine it. He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to notice that Ana straddled his thighs, her head resting on his chest. He must have made some noise because she kissed his chest and sat up.

“Mmm,” she purred. “Welcome back.”

“What--?” Sam began but Ana cut him off with a slow kiss that she ended with a bite to his bottom lip.

“No more talking,” Ana whispered, and Sam was overcome with the desire to do exactly as she said. He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. She smiled down at him. “Good boy.”

Those two words sent blood rushing toward his cock, as did the realization that Ana had discarded her bra and panties and was laying flush against him.  She grinded against him, leaving warm, slick fluid on his skin. Sam tried to keep silent but couldn’t stop the low moan that rumbled in his throat. He was impossibly hard again. Ana raised up a little and with a hand between them, plunged him deep into her sex. Every inch of his skin tingled, nerve endings all lit up with pleasure as she began to move. Up and down, she rolled her hips in languid circles, her eyes fluttering closed, head back.

“Oh, Sam,” she moaned. “You feel so good inside me.” Ana began to move faster and Sam thrust up to meet her, already feeling the early coiling of orgasm starting. The sense of wrongness snuck up again and was swiftly tamped down by the blinding, overwhelming, mind-blowing ecstasy crashing through him in fresh waves every time Ana slammed herself down onto his cock. Sam watched her shudder and moan above him, her head thrown back, mouth open and gasping.

It was dirty and anything but tender and so fucking _hot_ that Sam couldn't keep quiet. “Oh God, Ana!” he cried.

Her eyes snapped down to meet his. “I said no talking,” she growled, reaching behind her to squeeze his balls roughly. That sent him soaring over the edge, lips clamped shut to muffle his shout and keep Ana happy. She cried out in wordless ecstasy as her own orgasm wracked her body, and Sam's vision went black again

 

***

 

When Sam came around again, he felt even worse than before and the sense that something was wrong, that there was something he'd forgotten, nagged at him more insistently. Sam’s wrists had been freed. He groaned, wincing when the sound of his own voice was too much for his headache.

“Can you sit?” Ana asked softly. Sam tried opening his eyes first. The room was still dark, thank God, but he could make out that Ana was dressed in fresh panties and a royal blue negligee. She sat on the bed next to him and held out a glass of water.

Very carefully Sam pulled himself into a seated position and accepted the water gratefully. He was parched and gulped the water down, small rivulets trailing down his chin and chilling his chest. “Thank you,” he said, passing the glass back. He rubbed his temples and focused on his breathing, willing his protesting stomach to settle.

“Are you okay to drive?” Ana asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

 

***

 

“Are you going out _again_?” Dean asked the next night. 

“That a problem?” Sam countered, one eyebrow arched in a mild challenge.

His brother paced in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, and shrugged. “No,” Dean said. “Just… two nights out in a row is kind of a record for you, isn’t it?”

Sam scowled. “I met someone, okay? She texted me today and she wants to see me again.”

Dean’s face broke out into a proud grin. “Alright, Sammy’s got a booty call!”

“Just shut up and give me the keys, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and tossed him the keys to the impala.

 

***

 

She answered the door naked. Once again, Anastasia barely let Sam get inside her house before she was on him, kissing him and going right to work on his clothes. On the drive over he’d thought about talking, getting to know each other a little. But as soon as her hands touched him that thought flew out the window and all he wanted was _more_. More of those nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders, more of that mouth trailing nibbling kisses all over his chest. Sam pushed down on her shoulders firmly. “On your knees.” 

Ana smirked up at him and complied. “Only because _I_ want it.” In a matter of seconds, his jeans and boxers were off and she was sucking his dick, tongue swirling noisy circles around the head. Once again he had the nagging feeling that there was a conversation that was supposed to be happening here. Before he could suss it out, Ana deep-throated him and swallowed around the head of his cock and all coherent thought left him. She sucked hungrily, humming with pleasure. It was incredible. Sam let his head fall back and moaned, torn between savoring every sensation, prolonging the inevitable or rushing after his orgasm. As she had the night before, Ana seemed intent on the latter, massaging his ass. She pulled off his dick with a filthy _pop_ and stuck two fingers in her mouth. She took Sam’s cock in her mouth again, like a pouncing lioness, then those two fingers forced their way inside his ass, burning in an exquisite mingling of pleasure-pain. She massaged his prostate and that was it. Cum poured into Ana’s mouth. She swallowed it greedily and Sam’s world went black.

 

***

 

Sam came to on the floor with Ana on top of him in the sixty-nine position, lips working him up to another erection. “Oh good,” she said. “You’re awake. Lick me.”

That nagging sense of forgetting something important fluttered briefly to the surface of Sam’s thoughts, but then Ana swallowed down around his cock and it fizzled out completely. He ran his hands over her hips and, pulling her closer, licked a long stripe up the inside of her thigh. He mouthed his way to her lips, which he parted with his tongue. He flicked his tongue over her clitoris and Ana let out a throaty moan that vibrated his cock in the most decadent way. Sam plunged his tongue into her over and over, curving up into her to taste her. She was so wet that she was all but dripping into his mouth and Sam drank her juices. It was ambrosia and liquid bliss and he was careening toward the edge of his orgasm. Ana moaned loudly, sucking him off more enthusiastically, grinding against Sam’s mouth. Her muscles shuddered around his tongue as they came together. Sam groaned out Ana’s name and the room went dark again.

 

***

 

“ _Again_?” Dean demanded when Sam found him in the kitchen the next night and asked for the car keys. Sam just scowled down at his brother, hand open expectantly. Dean shook his head and scoffed as he dug his keys out of his pocket. “What’s this chick got, beer-flavored nipples? Fine,” he said, dropping the keys into Sam’s hand.

 

***

 

Sam didn’t know how many times he’d lost consciousness, but each time the headache and exhaustion were worse and the feeling of wrongness was weaker. And each time he floated in a fog of pleasure as soon as Ana touched him. He was returning to some form of cloudy alertness and yet another of Ana's fantastic blowjobs when the sound of close thunder yanked his waning attention toward the door. 

Except it wasn't thunder and a familiar voice bellowed “Sam? Sammy, where are you?”

“Dean?” he croaked.

Ana's head snapped up, eyes fierce and furious. “Hunter,” she growled.

“Ana?” Sam said in a pleading voice.

“Sam!” In a handful of heartbeats Dean stormed the bedroom and thunder erupted from the gun in his hands. Ana shrieked and fell in a heap on top of Sam.

“What--?” Sam began but couldn't finish the thought because his eyes were rolling into the back of his head and he collapsed back on the bed.

 

***

 

Rough hands shook Sam awake the next time. “Sammy, hey, there you are,” Dean said hovering over him. He was still in Ana's bed, still naked, but Ana was gone. 

“Where's Ana?” he asked in a hoarse voice, wincing at the hangover-from-hell sensations plowing into him.

“Out back, roasting on the fire. Are you okay?”

Sam made a valiant attempt to sit up, groaning through a wave of nausea. “I think so.” After a beat he said, “Wait, what?”

“She was a succubus, Sam,” Dean explained. “She was feeding on you. Which is why you look like six shades of hammered crap right now.”

Sam almost began to argue on reflex, but then the feelings of wrongness and that he was forgetting something important came rushing back. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I knew it was too good to be true.” Dean didn't say anything, he just waited for Sam to go on. “I kept thinking something was wrong but then she'd touch me and everything was… Incredible.” He looked at his hands in his lap. “We never talked. Not about protection, or consent. Nothing. That's what was bugging me, that I didn't ask….”

Dean put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. “Hey, it's okay. It's over. Right?”

Sam nodded.

“You're the victim here, not her. She drugged you. From what I found out, their skin and, ah, body fluids flood the pleasure centers of the brain with dopamine,” Dean explained. Sam shot him a skeptical look. “What? I read.”

Sam snorted. “How did you know?”

Dean flashed a wry smirk. “Chick wants _you_ three nights in a row? She's _gotta_ be a monster.”

He scoffed and slugged Dean weakly in the arm. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother answered, standing and heading for the door. “Now get dressed, bitch, you're creeping me out.”


End file.
